The date at the top of the The Times is Aug. 21, 1928.

This is a special date as it marks the day my sweet mom was born. It seems only fitting that her daughter, who has spent some 28 years in the newspaper industry, seek out a publication that was produced the day her mother came into this world. After all, it is this same woman who encouraged said daughter to take her love of writing and turn it into a career.

I remember a very hot September day in 1978 when mom drove me to Sheridan College to see if I could get into the journalism program. Just a few scant days before I was to enter Grade 13, I announced to my parents that I would prefer to attend college and enroll in journalism. Instead of trying to convince her 17 year old that the final year of high school was a better alternative, mom told me I had better hurry up and make sure there was still space available in the program.

It was my choice, she said.

That is the beauty of my mother; my brother, sister and I were all given the gift of life's choices. Of course there was guidance along the way, but it was up to each of us to decide the direction we wished to head in life.

Even as a little girl, mom would let me select my own clothes suggesting, as only mothers can, that the machine washable items were far more practical and if they didn't need ironing that was an added bonus. We quickly learned how to manage pocket money -- once spent that was it, and if we were looking for more, then we had to earn it.

My mom's childhood memories, some clouded by war, are obviously much different than mine. Her own mother died when mom was just 14 and she was raised by an aunt. Growing up in London during and after the war provided its own set of challenges including knowing real fear when the bombs rained down.

Recently, when the two of us were in deep conversation about those long ago days, it dawned on me that our generation (those living in a society not affected by war) has very little to share with offspring. We know nothing of rationing, evacuation, huddling in shelters or wondering if our home would still be standing upon returning from school that day. But mom recalls these years with a certain degree of pride -- the same pride she shows when talking about her beloved family.

The past couple of years have been difficult for mom, as she has spent much of her energy confronting cancer. However, she continues her fight with the same grace and kindness that she exudes every day. I am grateful she is my mother and grateful, too, that so many years after the printing of that edition of The Times, I am able to wish mom a very happy special birthday and let her know how very much she is loved within the pages of a newspaper.

Jill Davis can be reached at jdavis@haltonsearch.com.